


Shrimp Sugar Fry

by Lkcsi



Series: Sound Mixers AU [2]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lkcsi/pseuds/Lkcsi
Summary: Yuri was going to come home late, so Flynn decides to make it a little easier on Yuri by cooking dinner.
Relationships: Flynn Scifo/Yuri Lowell
Series: Sound Mixers AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552831
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Shrimp Sugar Fry

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I would like to say that shrimp sugar fry in this story is a real recipe made by my family that has been passed down, and I swear it really is cooked like that. Secondly, I wrote this at a whim and as an exercise to keep myself from passing over my maximum word count. Thirdly, enjoy walking magnet of cooking disaster Flynn try and impress his fiance.

The curtains were still drawn closed and the lights were still turned off, except for some rooms he knew Repede could turn on by himself, which were the kitchen and the living room. Flynn parked in the driveway, got out of the car, ears picking up no sound aside from Repede's excited barking and skipping around. A kind of dread began settling in Flynn; there were only two rooms in the bungalow that were lit, and there didn't seem to be any other source of noise.

There was literally no other time the house would be like this. If Yuri wasn't dancing to music from the TV, singing along it with more enthusiasm than attention to his own voice, or cooking, he might be doing some other thing like his craft hobby, but the lamp near the window should be on and the window open. And when home alone Yuri preferred napping on the couch too, so the living room lights should be off. But this setup? Utter silence and only two lights? Something was up.

Flynn's mind immediately made a list of possible reasons as he fished his keys out of his pocket, bracing himself for another one of Yuri's pranks, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. Yuri's pranks had steadily gotten worse ever since their engagement a few months prior, from stacked mattresses to literally painting his entire body green and pretending to be part of the bedroom wall.

The lock turned. The door opened.

He closed his eyes, half-expecting Yuri to have taped himself to the ceiling and screech at him from above, but nothing came, except for Repede who barrelled right into Flynn, standing up on his hind legs and reaching to lick Flynn's face. Flynn reciprocated the big dog's affection with ear scritches and laughs, and once Repede deemed he'd had enough of Flynn he went back down and plopped himself on one of the many dog-sized couches in the house.

He raised a brow. Repede wasn't acting like Yuri had set anything up.

"Yuri?" He called out, checking every nook and cranny, even checking under the bed just in case. Even the attic was devoid of Yuri. He wasn't in the bushes in the yard outside nor sticking out of the earth like a carrot, even though Flynn knew it was one of the things Yuri wasn't willing to do outside of a beach. He even asked Repede where Yuri was, as if the dog could speak, but he only got a small huff from him.

Yuri wasn't home.

The beginnings of terror replaced the initial dread. Wisely he pulled out his phone, dialled Yuri's speed dial number and called.

_ Ring. _

"Come on-"

_ "Hey Flynn, wassup?" _

He answered! Yuri wasn't dead!

"Yuri," his tone became a bit deep, edging on interrogating, "where are you?"

_ "Oh, are you jealous? You know I only have the hots for you. Besides, we're engaged." _

If he hadn't had a scare, Flynn would have begun slamming his forehead on the wall, but it was just a relief Yuri wasn't not fine. He just smiled at the clapback. "I know, cuppycake. But you are never not already here from work unless it's a night party you're catering for. And I usually know about those."

_ "Oh, right. I really meant to call you earlier, but my phone died. I had to wait until I could charge it. Believe me or not, I just turned on my phone when you called." _

"Hah."

_ "Anyway, I gotta get this thing charged up enough. Client insisted on fucking up our schedule and keeping us around for two more hours, so I had to fight for payment." _ The way he said the word 'fight' raised alarm bells in Flynn's brain.

"Yuri. You don't have any bruises on you, right?"

_ "Nah, she caved in pretty quickly. Luckily for me and her pretty face Jurgis was around. Remember him? He's apparently a cop now and he was in the party." _

"Oh yeah, I remember."

_ "We got paid, but we had to spend more time. And right now I'm here at Estelle's condo." _

"Oh, say hi to Estellise for me."

_ "Estelle! Flynn says hi." _

Flynn could hear Estelle's voice, faint in the background, say hello back.

_ "Estelle says hi. So, yeah. I'm arriving late tonight. Be there in two hours." _

"Can you get here sooner than that?" It was high time for Flynn to return fire, and with a grin he said his next words, "The bed would be so cold without you."

Yuri chuckled.  _ "Fuck you, it's just five-thirty something in the afternoon." _

"You sure I'm not the one fucking you?"

_ "My god, Flynn. I really am rubbing off on you. I still remember that time you were trying not to cry because you said the fuck word once." _

"I WAS THIRTEEN."

_ "Thirteen year olds should know at least the heck word." _

"Yuri, you little shit."

_ "Hah! You sure I'm not corrupting the angel Flynn Scifo?" _ There was even more laughter from the other end of the line.

"Or am I uncorrupting the devil Yuri Lowell?"

_ "As if." _ Flynn heard Yuri breathe out heavily in the way that he does when he feels happy. _ "Love you, burger." _

That was unexpectedly sweet. With a fluttering heart Flynn said, "I love you too, cupcake."

_ "Heh. So, I'll be around by six-thirty. Seven, maybe." _

"I'll wait. Be safe, okay? I can pick you up if you want?"

_ "I'm a grown ass adult." _

"Yeah, a grown ass lazy adult."

_ "Smartass. Wonder why I fell for you." _

"I happen to be Flynn. You know. Your apparent crush since high school."  _ And I crushed on you since the end of high school, too, _ he didn't add.

_ "Point. Anyway, see you soon, burger." _

"Love you. Bye."

He hung up halfheartedly, knowing he would only hear Yuri's voice later, unless Yuri decided to call again.

Repede's arrival in the room pulled his attention away from his phone screen, and while petting the large dog Flynn just smiled softly.

"Yuri's going to be so tired when he comes home. He acts like he's fine, but I could feel he's tired."

Repede gave a huff, as if replying. 

"I wonder if he'd have the energy to cook dinner later. Don't you think he cooks well?"

Repede simply looked up at his blond dad and stared.

"Yeah, I know. He doesn't even let you eat too much of the dog food. He cooks for you, and you really like it."

"Ruff."

"I think I'm going to do something special for him tonight." Flynn leaned forward to procure a worn out but well-cared-for notebook from under the coffee table in front of him. The purple notebook labelled lovingly by Flynn so many years ago as 'Yuri's Recipes' was halfway filled, and he flipped it open to look at Yuri's not-so-careful handwriting on the pages. He eventually came across on a page Yuri had written three years ago that was simply titled 'Shrimp Sugar Fry'. He squinted to try and read Yuri's writing to see the ingredients.

1 pound shrimp. 3 tablespoons of sugar. 1/8 cup of fish sauce. 1/4 cup of water. 2 cloves garlic. Cooking oil. Best paired with rice.

"I should cook these for him!"

Repede's whines of protests did nothing to convince Flynn not to get out to the nearby grocery and buy the ingredients. As he watched his blond human take off in his loud metal contraption of motion he sank to the floor and put his paws on his eyes. In his dog mind he prepared for another kitchen disaster that hadn't happened for four years.

Flynn returned three quarters of an hour later holding two grocery bags containing shrimp, salmon cold cuts, onions, ginger, and garlic, a bag of sugar, two pounds of rice, a bottle of fish sauce, and a jumbo bottle of chilli sauce, which he really shouldn't have bought, but still chucked into his cart anyway. When he returned to the door, he found no Repede in the living room, and with a sigh Flynn admitted he's scaring his dog baby too much with his sudden wish to cook.

He dumped the bags onto the counter before taking a quick detour to the bedroom to change out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable--jersey shorts and a worn cotton shirt that said 'Dog Dad' in cursive font. Quickly he unloaded the bags and set on to washing the shrimp, taking extra care not to get Yuri's recipe notebook wet.

_ This one's really simple, _ Flynn thought as he decoded the chickenscratch cipher that was Yuri's sorry excuse for handwriting. 

'Wash the shrimp and take out the shells', already done. 

'Put the shrimp in a pan that has nothing in it.' Flynn followed, despite it being weird.  _ Wasn't cooking good supposed to start with heating oil? _

'1 pound of shrimp = 1/4 cup of water. Scale it accordingly. Turn on stove, medium fire.' Resisting the strong temptation to add spiciness to the mix, he poured the water into the pan and let the flame light. He watched the shrimp almost instantly turn from gray colors to orange and white.

'Let shrimp cook for 1 minute, then add 1/8 cup fish sauce.' Flynn followed, and a few seconds in, the overwhelming smell of fish sauce so fragrant that he felt his stomach rumble immediately.  _ Is this how Yuri feels when cooking his food?  _

_ 'Add 3 tablespoons of sugar and 2 crushed cloves of garlic. Be sure to mix.' _ With some doubt but nonetheless trusting Yuri's taste and skill he added sugar and garlic to the bubbling water, and mixed everything in the pan.

Repede trotted into the kitchen and sat down, intrigued. His tail wagged as Flynn cooked, and Flynn felt some kind of validation.

'Add small amount of cooking oil. Mix again. Let it cook for a few more minutes.' There were no further instructions after that, so Flynn just told himself to just let the watery sauce boil until only a small amount was left.

He looked at the meal, smiled, and closed it with a lid. 

"Now, for my experiment," he said loudly, and he swore he heard Repede whimper. He brought out a pan and a pot, rinsed them, and went to cook one and a half cups of rice in the pot. As for the pan, he put it on the stove, let it heat up with a small flame, and emptied the pre-diced cold cuts in it. He watched the cold cuts turn into something more akin to hot cuts, from a shade of pink to something a little grayer, before turning off the stove and working on chopping a whole onion and a piece of ginger the size of a knuckle. As he poured some diluted vinegar into a bowl he immediately dumped chopped onion and ginger, mixing them before adding the hot cuts.

Yuri's words of cooking advice so long ago echoed in his head.  _ "If you want meat or fish meat flavored but don't want it cooked, always remove the moisture from it before adding the flavoring. It makes the flavor seep into the meat that's now more a sponge." _

Hands squeezed at the bowl of slightly medium-done fish meat, imagining it as a sponge ready to absorb the combined flavors of vinegar, onion, and ginger. When he was satisfied he popped one piece into his mouth and nodded, liking the flavor. His gut yelled at him to stick the bowl into the freezer to cool for some time. Then he just waited for the rice to cook, setting plates, silverware (courtesy of Raven--he still would never get over this gift from the birthday party), and glasses on the crochet place mat doilies on the little dining table. He took the rice pot and set it atop a thick rag in the middle of the table.

The creak of the front door's hinges and subsequent bang as it closed got Flynn smiling.  _ Yuri's home _ , he thought inwardly _. _ He took the time to turn off the fire under the rice and peeked into the living room to find Yuri already taking off his shirt as he walked to the bedroom, presumably to change. He did come back out wearing an old shirt and just his boxer shorts. 

"Hey, burger. I thought I'd banned you from the kitchen."

"Hello, cuppycake," he said as he leaned in to peck Yuri's cheek, "and I'm disregarding the ban."

"Bastard. What didja cook?"

"Your shrimp sugar fry and an experiment I'd done. I think I like how it tastes so I don't have much of a problem with it."

"You must be a mad scientist or something."

"I do tend to eat what I make."

"That's cool," Yuri strode into the kitchen and immediately sat down on his chair, "and did you know I've been craving shrimp the entire day? Wow, we really are getting married. Our souls must be in sync enough."

"Really?" He scooped the shrimp out onto a plate. "Didn't know you wanted shrimp." 

"I thought you'd just make sandwiches though." The scent of the viand wafted to Yuri, interrupting whatever he was going to say about sandwiches. "God, I'm so hungry and tired. I want to eat now. That smells delicious."

Flynn set the shrimp plate down in front of Yuri and watched him dump rice and shrimp on his plate and then gobble it up. He went to the fridge to retrieve his bowl of experimental cooking before joining the ravenous Yuri.

"I lrve this. You cooked rrrlly wrll," Yuri said in between bites.

"I knew you'd be so tired and hungry when you come home, so I fixed some dinner. I followed the recipe in your notebook."

Flynn watched Yuri eat his first plate as he ate, spilling some spicy sauce onto his shrimp. After Yuri gulped down water, his dark gray eyes fell on the bowl of (now transformed) cold cuts.

"Wassat?"

"Some cold cuts I made with vinegar. Not sure what it's called. Just thought of it when I went to the grocery earlier."

"Looks interesting, can I try?"

"Don't blame me if this goes sour."

Yuri narrowed his eyes at his burger.

"Get it? It has vinegar." Flynn managed a lopsided grin.

"Just gimme." Yuri pulled the bowl of cold cuts and shovelled a spoon into it, bringing it to his mouth to taste.

Several seconds of chewing passed. Yuri swallowed. He took another spoonful, this time mixing it with rice, and ate it. Flynn thought Yuri was going to begin hyperventilating on the spot.

"That actually wasn't so bad."

Momentary shock on part of Flynn transformed into infinite joy upon seeing Yuri take another bite of his experiment, nodding and humming all the way. He looked back at Flynn with a raised brow and a smirk and took another bite.

And another.

And yet another.

"I followed what you said about dry meat being a sponge."

"Guess you didn't forget what I taught you. This? It's great. I love it. It tastes so well. I love the sour softness."

Flynn couldn't contain his own overjoyed grin, his heart dancing in his chest. His soul was somewhere on cloud nine, maybe even cloud ten with all the delight in his life as Yuri actually simultaneously savoured and devoured this new food, not just stomach it. No, he knew how Yuri was when he just stomached whatever experimental meals he made; how the sweat would form on his temples or how his eyes would squeeze shut. But now, there was none of the telltale signs Yuri may be lying for his sake. The way he chewed, those happy eyes. He was the picture of utter relaxation and enjoyment. Flynn stood up from his chair to hug his fiance's dark head and kiss his hair and cheeks.

"Yuri, you've made me so happy," Flynn said between kisses.

"Sap." He tilted his head up and pulled his lover's face down for a proper lip lock. "You have to tell me the recipe for this. It's great."

And so Flynn told Yuri what exactly he did and what the ingredients were. How he'd removed moisture by putting it in a pan. How he'd mixed vinegar and chopped pieces of ginger and onion to the meat. How he'd repeatedly kneaded the meat to ensure the fluids had come in. Yuri had practically licked his plate clean by the end of dinner, much to his partner's appreciation. And for some reason he cuddled Flynn much closer that night, face snuggling Flynn's shoulder and hands tussling blond locks more before falling asleep.

Flynn came home the next day to find Yuri knitting contently on the couch. The purple recipe notebook was lying on top of the coffee table, the cover of it changed since the last time he saw it. There was a yellow piece of paper taped over it, and on it was ink spelling out the words 'Yuri and Flynn's Recipes'.

**Author's Note:**

> I would also like to note that what Flynn whipped up isn't exactly truly an experimental dish, as a variant of it already exists as a Philippine dish called "kilawen" or "kinilaw" depending on the region.


End file.
